Good Friday

1,600 plastic Easter eggs. Approximately. And they're all in the back of our mini-van.

The sweat of my brow & the extent of my organizational skills, have all been spent on this egg hunt.

So that's become the bulk of my thoughts. Will there be enough? Will people know where to go? How can I be sure they go to the correct table to redeem their prizes?

What am I going to wear? What will Flynn wear? What will I take for dinner afterward?

Now isn't that just silly?

Not silly that I've planned a community-wide egg hunt.

But that it's consumed my mind.

Yesterday, I slipped Jeff's iPod in my ears & pushed play.

He had uploaded a dramatization of the resurrection... with voices such as Cuba Gooding Jr. & James Earl Jones.

It was good. I was getting inspired. The deep bass of the music escalated as Christ carried the cross & the intensity thrived as the moment grew nearer. 'Wow!' I thought.

But then it hit me...

When Jesus was carrying that cross through the town. Through the streets. Blood dripping from His flesh-torn back...

He heard no music to inspire Him.

When they nailed him hands & his feet & speared his side, there was no bass beat.

There was crying...and mourning... and a Mother who watched her son being beat... and made fun of... and disrespected... and murdered.

There was no dramatization, nothing that made Jesus feel uplifted or inspired.

Except...

Except for you.

Can you believe that? Can you wrap your mind around that? Someone thought enough of YOU to die. In my lowest of times, especially in my best of times, that was way more than I deserved.

When I pray in the morning, I start out with,

Dear God,

Thank You for giving me a breath to breathe today.

You didn't even have to wake me up this morning but You did.

And then on top of all of that, You've blessed me like You have.

It's true. He worked so hard just creating the universe, and us, and all the animals.

Then, on top of all of that, He gave His son. Something I have only fully understood the last two Easters, since I have a son of my own.

Just for us.

I could go on & on after that. But I won't.

But those are my thoughts today.... after Flynn asked me (after a short summary I gave her on why this is Good Friday),

"Why did He die?"

Really, all she needs to know is that He loved her that much.

And because of that love, JUST that love, she & all the rest of us, have the option of eternity in heaven.